Letting Go

The other day I woke up at 5am, wide awake, and no amount of tossing and turning could put me back to sleep. So I decided to make some more progress on the journal I have been working on for Grace that was supposed to be done this summer. Back in October, while still adjusting to being pregnant and having no idea how everything would turn out, I spent a good hour or so flipping through every pregnancy journal on the shelves of both Borders and Barnes and Nobles' bookstores. I was desperate to start recording anything and everything I experienced with her during this time. Just in case I never saw her again after she was born I wanted her to know that I loved her deeply, that I cared, and if she turned out to be as sentimental as I am, I wanted her to be able to know her story from my side. This journal I found was the only one that was more focused on the pregnancy experience itself rather than all the baby showers, daddy do-good deeds, nursery themes, etc. that a lot of pregnancy journals like to include. Things I would painfully not be experiencing this pregnancy. The journal I found perfectly focused on me and Grace and the short time we had together. 


So here I am now 4 months after her birth revisiting the journal and filling in some of the missing spots. As I near the end of the journal it asks questions about all the "firsts" the occur once baby is home. It's only a couple pages of questions, but as I skim through them I realize the one thing that will always cause a little pang of hurt inside of me: I don't know. I don't know what her first night at home was like, I don't know what her favorite pacifier is, I don't know her feeding time, her nap time, or her disposition. I don't know anything about the things that it feels like, as a mother, I should know. 


For nine months I was the one that knew everything about her. I knew her active times, I knew her favorite foods, I knew how to make her move, I knew her sleepy times, I knew her hiccups from her kicks, I knew everything there was to know about her for those nine months. And I cherished every moment of it. I knew I wouldn't get it back, I knew one day someone else would know more about her than I do. And I knew that that was the way it was supposed to be. 


I think the biggest, and hardest thing we have to endure as a parent is the act of letting go. At many stages in our children's lives we learn to let go in certain ways whether it is when we can no longer hold them, their first day of school, the day they move out for college, or the day they get married. For me, that day came when she was born. I endured the act of letting go the day she was born. And I get asked all the time if that was hard for me. Of course that was hard for me, I carried her for nine months and gave birth to her. But from the day I found out I was pregnant I knew God was telling me that she belonged to Him and the He had a plan for her. And He was right, her life was in His hands now in pregnancy and it would be for the rest of her life. And I leaned on that and trusted in God to give me the strength I needed to let go. And He did. 


Much to my surprise, Grace is 4 months old and I know all about her. Of course it is not firsthand knowledge, but that is completely ok. I get to see her and watch her grow. I get to hear from Liz all of her accomplishments and milestones. I don't sit at home and wonder and feel guilty for not knowing. I am thankful everyday for the opportunity I have to know her and her parents. There will always be a pang of hurt about the things I do not know firsthand about Grace or experience myself, but just knowing how happy she is, how ecstatic Liz and Eric are and how I get to play a small part in that gives me great joy and peace.